


Desperate times, drastic measures.

by Leafling



Category: Fallout 3
Genre: Anal Sex, Don't Judge Me, Explicit Sexual Content, First Meetings, I Don't Even Know, M/M, Not Beta Read, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Outdoor Sex, Past Relationship(s), Sex as a bargaining tool, Sex for Favors, Sexual Humor, Snark, Swearing, Trust Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-13
Updated: 2013-05-13
Packaged: 2017-12-11 17:20:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/801201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leafling/pseuds/Leafling
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the Wastes, everyone gets fucked.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Desperate times, drastic measures.

**Author's Note:**

> I think I'm losing it...

Wolfgang (or "Crazy Wolfgang" as he preferred) sold amenities that most, if not all, would agree could only be classified as junk. An eccentric fellow he was; dark-haired, gray-eyed and roguishly handsome like the men from Amata’s books. 

When Wolfgang smiled, and that was quite often, it was all obscenely white teeth and condescension. 

For someone who openly referred to themselves as being "touched in the head", Wolfgang was more smug than anything… and how Jared had loathed the man the first time they’d met on the outskirts of what used to be a suburb now wilted and rusted and blown away in the shadow of a tall, metal-walled monstrosity affectionately dubbed "Megaton." 

"If you need junk, I’ve got plenty of it." Wolfgang had informed with a grin and a flourish of his hands, bowing low like a jester greeting his King. His act of unconventionality had Jared scowling long before Wolfgang had even begun to properly introduce himself; before he really got to show the teen just how "crazy" he was. 

"Cut the crap," Jared snapped, interrupting the tradesman’s spiel with a stamp of his foot. "I’m looking for a hooker named Diamond… or Destiny—" 

"Silver," Wolfgang corrected pointedly. 

"Yeah, Silver; you know her?" Jared’s eyes looked hopeful, the irritation in his tone bleeding into that of optimism. "Any clues on where she might be?" The teen asked, stepping closer to the tradesman to avoid being trampled by his trotting Brahmin; the two-headed beast too busy nosing at the sand to look up and see where she was going. 

Wolfgang’s lips thinned into a straight line and his own gray eyes glittered with a kept promise. He looked just like someone who’d had a secret as his gloved-hands disappeared behind his back. As Jared watched him shift between his feet, the Vault-kid thought (childishly) that the older man was crossing his fingers. 

Jared’s fingers itched to brandish his gun, his patience running thin as Wolfgang took his sweet time answering his question; though, just when his fuse was about to run out and he just started reaching for the holster on his thigh, the dark-haired man finally spoke. 

"I might… it depends." Wolfgang rolled his eyes as the corner of his lips quirked up in a knowing smirk. "Are you here on a courtesy-call; or are you here on Moriarty’s business?"  
  
Jared roared angrily at the tradesman’s reluctance to give him a straight answer. All pink with fury and the beginnings of sunburn, the teen advanced on Wolfgang with an arm curled back to sock him in the face. "Just tell me where she is!" Jared hollered as he swung. 

His fist connected hard with Wolfgang’s face and the sound of the impact was almost sickening; Jared had to close his eyes against the spray of blood that erupted from the tradesman’s mouth. 

The scuffle that ensued was one-sided, Jared forcing the older man to the ground and beating him bloody—and all Wolfgang could do was laugh and taunt him; even curled up into the fetal-position on the ground, getting his face rearranged by the Vault-kid’s angry fists, the tradesman jeered as though completely unfazed. 

Jared screamed at this; his hits coming harder and faster. "Tell me. Tell me! Why won’t you tell me, you fucking idiot?" The youth growled as he dropped onto the ground with his knees on either side of the man’s waist; his hands grabbing Wolfgang by his collar and shaking the tradesman until his manic laughter turned into wet wheezing. "Tell me where she is, Bastard!" 

Wolfgang’s blood in his eyes burned; instinctively Jared curled in on himself as he tried to wipe it away. "Fuck!" He shouted, dirty hands making the pain worse as he rubbed filth into his eyes. 

Distracted, Jared had forgotten about Wolfgang until it was too late. 

Jared found himself on his back before he could utter another swear; his thighs splayed wide as the tradesman insinuated himself betwixt them; his wrists pinned to the coarse ground and the backs of his hands burning against the golden sea of silt and sand. 

Jared tried kicking the man in the back but his legs wouldn’t cooperate; tried bucking the man off but his hips were immobilized; tried to struggle out of his hold but Wolfgang was deceptively strong and his hold was like a vice. 

Jared's heartbeat faltered when he realized he was completely and incontestably trapped underneath Wolfgang’s larger form. 

Running out of options, Jared turned to his last alternative; screaming as loudly and as threateningly as possible—it never worked but it was worth a try. 

His efforts were swiftly brought to an end when Wolfgang possessed his mouth with a rough and dominating kiss. If it could be called a kiss because it was nothing like the sweet pecks Amata used to pepper his face with; nothing like the thorough and romantic ones used to melt the (albeit weak) resolve of timid lovers—the only thing that could compare was the fierce tongue-lashing he used to torture Butch with, hot and fierce and terribly arousing; and even that paled in comparison. 

There was nothing arousing about this, it was all abnormally sharp teeth and metal-tinged spit; hard suction that bruised his lips and a rough tongue that dominated Jared’s at every turn. 

The newness of it (the total lack of control) made Jared squirm away with tears forming in the corners of his eyes. 

Feeling Wolfgang’s teeth puncture the inside of his bottom lip, Jared started trembling violently; countless unuttered sobs lodging in his chest as the teen laid there, petrified by Wolfgang’s chapped lips on his; pain blossoming throughout his jaw as blood spilled forth from his lips and down his smooth, soft jaw. When Wolfgang released his mouth, Jared saw stars; and then he remembered that he needed to breathe. 

The first inhalation was the hardest—his body too scared stiff to do anything other than quiver—but when he finally sucked in that first taste of the musky (but otherwise fresh air) Jared could’ve sworn he heard a distant series of broken, breathless sobs. 

Then Jared realized that those pitiful sounds were coming from him; that he was the one crying. 

Over a kiss, no less! 

Jared’s wrists had been freed shortly after his mouth; bringing his hands to his face he wiped away the salty streams of tears staining his cheeks, and thereafter the mixture of blood and saliva glistening on his lips and chin. 

Blinking moisture from his eyes, the teen tried to look threatening as Wolfgang loomed over him smirking smugly. 

"Not so tough now, huh, Pretty-boy," the tradesman cooed tauntingly. Watching Jared wipe his mouth persistently with the sleeve of his Vault jumpsuit unburdened by his Pip-boy 3000, Wolfgang chuckled: "Did someone just have their first kiss?" 

Jared spat in the larger man’s face, "Fuck you!" 

"I’ll take that as a yes." Wolfgang smirked, wiping his face clean with the back of his hand. 

Shoving at the older man’s chest as he tried desperately to evict Wolfgang from the space betwixt his legs, Jared grunted: "Ge’off me, you fucking pervert." 

"And why would I do that? It’s plenty comfy right here…" 

The barrel of Jared’s gun pressed to his chest, the teen’s finger itching to pull the trigger, drove Wolfgang away effectively enough. "I should fucking end you right here and now." Jared pondered aloud, scrambling to his feet as Wolfgang stepped back with his hands upraised in the universal sign of surrender. 

"But you’ll never know where Silver is." Wolfgang piped in. 

Jared glowered; knowing the tradesman to be correct. "And, clearly, I can’t beat it out of you because you’re a fucking sicko who gets off on being hit." 

"…or because you hit like a girl," The older man joked. 

Jared took an infuriated step forward but paused before he took the next, recalling that he’d just been on the ground and forcibly kissed by this same psychopath because of his inability to control his temper. 

Setting his jaw, the youth tried to use his reason—all his former-classmate’s used to tell him he was charming; perhaps, words would win out where fists didn’t? 

"What could possibly make you tell me where she is?" Jared groaned fussily, "I’m not going to tell Moriarty; he doesn’t care, he just wants his caps back." 

Wolfgang clicked his teeth, "If only it was that easy, Kid… besides, what do you get out of this? If you think he’s going to pay you for your good deed, you’ve got another thing coming." 

"I don’t want his fucking money; he has information about my father that I need!" Jared exclaimed urgently. 

Wolfgang grunted, considering Jared for a long moment before he smirked, "Hm, I see; you’re the runaway from the vault… the little boy lost," He purred. "Well, I’m sure I can be persuaded to disclose Silver’s location." 

Finally, they were getting somewhere. 

"What do you want then? If it’s caps, you’re shit out of luck because I’m broke." 

Wolfgang’s hands were all over him before Jared could brandish his pistol: his arms, legs, back and shoulders; those blunt fingers tickled, whether they were probing the sharp swell of his hips or examining the slight dip of his waist. When they settled on his arse, Jared’s eyes narrowed into thin angry slits. 

"I didn’t kiss you because that’s some sort of greeting specific to Wastelanders." Wolfgang explained matter-of-factly. He could practically hear Jared’s teeth grinding but when the youth failed to struggle in his hold, Wolfgang knew he’d won. "Don’t worry, Kid, I’ll make your first time special." 

Jared snuffled, "My name’s not Kid; it’s Jared. And what makes you think I’m a virgin?" 

Wolfgang’s blunt nails dug into the underside of his buttocks as the tradesman lifted Jared off his feet and sent them both back to the ground with a grunt of exertion. "Do you actually think get fucked by a few horny teenagers really counts?" His hands moved to skirt across Jared’s chest for the zipper to his jumpsuit; when he located it, Wolfgang wasted no time yanking it down as far as he could. 

"You think fucking a few whores on your travels counts?" Jared retorted. 

Wolfgang snatched the jumpsuit open and down Jared’s arms then, "They never complained." 

Jared’s skin was softer and paler, unsurprisingly, underneath the suit; his nipples puffy and the same sinful shade of cerise his kiss-swollen lips were. Wolfgang’s lips made a seal over one of the harden nubs as he attacked it with his tongue. 

The youth cried out as pleasure found him at long last; back arching off the sand as his body begged for more. And as much as he hated himself for giving in without a fight, Jared’s nipples had always been hypersensitive (more sensitive than they ought to have been, actually) and once someone had started playing with them, the teen was utterly lost to the sensation. 

Feeling Wolfgang’s tongue swirl around and around the rim of his areola, Jared closed his eyes and let out a stuttering moan. In the back of his mind fear remained—the fear of being out of control; the fear of being at the mercy of another (a stranger, especially)—but Jared did his best to stow it away to be overanalyzed and raged over on a later date as he arched further and further into the dizzying heat of Wolfgang's mouth. 

Rutting up into the hard, clothed abdomen pressed tight to his pelvis, Jared hissed as he felt his cock straining almost painfully in the confines of his jumpsuit. Leather didn't stretch; leather didn't breathe—leather was the worst fabric to make clothing out of, let alone an entire jumpsuit! 

Wriggling as Wolfgang peppered wet open-mouthed kisses along his pectorals, Jared tried to rid himself of his pesky jumpsuit when unfairly perfect teeth closed around his untouched nipple and elicited one of the shrillest shrieks of pleasure from him. 

"God," Jared cried out to the sky above; his whole body going taut as the teen swore his was on the verge of climaxing. Nails digging into the folds of the scrunched up collar in his grasp, Jared his hips seemed to move on their own accord; bucking harder and more frantically as he was seized by his release. 

His nerves felt like they were on fire; like they'd been hit with a powerful jolt of electricity: crackling and hypersensitive. 

So many sensations washed over him at once, too many for his mind to readily decipher; so strong and so overwhelming that it bordered on pain—and then Wolfgang's heavy hand was gripping his erection through his clothes, the older man's hold tighter than was necessary, stopping his release in its tracks. 

Tears leaked from Jared's eyes as his orgasm was cruelly snatched away from him; leaving the youth sobbing and stuttering, trembling and writhing like he was trying to burst from his skin. 

He wanted (no, needed) to come so badly—needed to shatter into a million little pieces—but so long as Wolfgang held fast onto him; as long as the tradesman barely held Jared together with his scorching-hot hand possessively squeezing the Vault-kid's cock, Jared could do nothing of the sort. 

He could scarcely speak, could scarcely move; paralyzed as endorphins flooded his system and as his muscles drew taut in anticipation for what was to come. Jared's eyes rolled, his mouth hung open as his addled brain tried to process his already incoherent thoughts into barely intelligible words. 

He felt on the verge of passing out when Wolfgang's growling voice found him at long last, "Nuh-uh-uh, Kid, no coming before I say so." The tradesman cooed. 

Jared's words found him all at once, "Fuck you! Bastard! Tease! Sadist! Pig!—" and were swiftly halted when Wolfgang kissed him and this time, the kiss was enjoyable; coaxing Jared into a state of pained bliss as Wolfgang bared down on his mouth like a lover rather than an attacker like before. 

Wolfgang stripped him thereafter, eyes almost black with desire as he took in the rest of Jared's body: sweaty and pink from exertion, his body was smooth and unscathed; too pretty and too perfect to belong to anyone outside of the protection of the vault. 

His mouth watered. Wolfgang had never had someone so virginal before—and despite Jared's earlier claim, Wolfgang could only imagine the teen to be a virgin because he was too clean, his body far too responsive and his erogenous zones too effective at almost bringing him to climax to be anything otherwise. 

Without the barrier of his jumpsuit, Jared's bare skin burned against the sand; he gasped and squirmed, clinging to Wolfgang as the tradesman sat up and freed his own erection from his trousers. 

"You usually this inconsiderate," Jared griped. 

Wolfgang smirked, "Are we making a deal or making love? You want me to take you wining and dining before I have my way with you?" 

"Deals usually don't involve fucking the other party." The teen countered, tugging at Wolfgang's coat. 

The tradesman obliged and pulled it off before throwing it onto the ground behind Jared and lowering the teen down onto it, "I don't know how you courteous-folk did it in the vault but, out here in the Wastes: deals or agreements of any kind usually end with someone getting fucked." 

Before Jared could make another quip, the Vault-kid found himself gritting his teeth to keep from grunting as Wolfgang breached him. "Shit," he swore as his body was made to stretch around the trademan's cock. Jared tried to squirm away as the bolbous head of the older man's erection inched further and further inside him; the lubrication precome provided barely enough to make entry possible.

Hissing as he felt on the verge of tearing, Jared smacked Wolfgang hard across his face. "You can't just shove it in, you idiot!" He chided, half-pained and half-indignant. 

Reeling from being struck, the tradesman stilled his hips. Rubbing his stinging cheek, he frowned. "Why not?"

"Why not?" Jared snapped, "Are you an idiot or something? I'm not a woman; everything down there doesn't magically become lubricated! Haven't you done this before?"

Wolfgang looked sheepish; the expression foreign even to him. "Nah..." He answered truthfully before pulling out and sitting back on his haunches.

"Then wh... never mind." Jared seethed. "Do you have any oil?"

\--

Jared bit his lip to keep from emitting any undue noise as Wolfgang once again made to breach his body; this time with his fingers, slick with oil and moving cautiously. 

"You alright?" Wolfgang asked with a twinge of concern, eyes transfixed on the teen as he writhed atop the tradesman's coat. 

"Yeah. 'm just peachy," Jared hissed sarcastically; his hands clawing at the sand for a hand-hold. His erection softening due to discomfort and neglect. 

Wolfgang laughed but his apparent mirth didn't reach his eyes, for the gray-black irises held only concentration. "I'm only using two." He informed, scissoring them as he delved them deeper still. The older man's patient efforts were rewarded well enough as Jared's body began to loosen in increments under his careful ministrations. Even still, Jared was tighter than any woman Wolfgang had ever had; and said observation didn't go unvoiced. 

"God, Kid, you're tight." Wolfgang remarked with desire.

"Shut the fuck up." Jared snapped, "If that was meant as I compliment; I swear, I'll kill you when this is over." 

Wolfgang smirked, "What, Kid, you embarrassed by a little dirty-talk?" As he spoke, the tradesman pulled his fingers out (much to Jared's clear relief) to drench them in another coating of oil before pushing them back in with the addition of his ring-finger. 

The teen gasped; taken by surprise by the newfound girth stretching him open. "Ffffuck you..." Clenching his eyes shut, Jared panted.

"Do you know how sexy you look right now? All stretched open and waiting?" Wolfgang remarked, breathing heavily as he watched his fingers go in and out of Jared's body.

Through gritted teeth the teen replied, "Didn't I tell you to shut up? God damn it, there's no need for fucking commentary, you fucking pervert."

Wolfgang laughed wholeheartedly in response, withdrawing his fingers and slicking himself up before he finally re-entered Jared with a powerful thrust that had him sheathed to the very hilt in the teen's tight heat. 

The youth groaned, utterly taken aback by Wolfgang's roughness. His arousal was revived by the familiar sensation of being filled; more so by the agonizingly slow slide of Wolfgang's cock against his prostate as the tradesman pulled out halfway only to thrust back in hard. 

Wolfgang's rhythm was shallow and quick, his thrusts brutal and precise as the tradesman assaulted Jared's prostate over and again. 

Digging his nails into the tradesman's hips and his heels into Wolfgang's lower back, Jared moved beneath the older man like he'd been possessed. Matching his thrusts, the teen panted and groaned; clawing into Wolfgang's skin until it was littered with shallow cuts and the beginnings of bruises. 

Despite Wolfgang's jab at Jared's former lovers being teenagers, the tradesman didn't seem like he would last much longer than anyone else Jared had had; after a handful of thrusts, the older man became sloppy; his movements frantic and his breath more so as he approached the point of no return. 

Unlike Butch or Freddie, however, Wolfgang didn't forget Jared's needs. 

Snaking a hand between them, Wolfgang jerked Jared's cock off in counterpoint to his thrusts. "You like that, Kid?" He purred darkly, lips brushing against Jared's ear as he spoke, "You like being taken, Kid? Do you like being fucked?" 

Jared's eyes snapped open at hearing Wolfgang's voice, his body tensing for a whole other reason as he listened to the tradesman panting in his ear. That earlier fear found him again and without a second-thought, the teen's hands found Wolfgang’s mouth. Pressing both of his hands as hard as he could into the older man’s face, he commanded through gritted teeth: "Stop. Fucking. Talking…" 

And Wolfgang complied because he couldn’t quite shake Jared’s hands from his face. 

With the tradesman silenced (for the most part because Jared could still very much hear him grunting underneath his hands) the teen was able to close his eyes and just feel. 

Sure that Wolfgang wouldn’t speak again; Jared lowered one of his hands to join the tradesman in getting him off. 

Their hands bumped awkwardly before Wolfgang’s fingers twined in Jared’s own and guided his sweaty palm up and down the length of his erection. The pleasure better than before—arguably better than it’d ever been—burning through him until Jared could feel nothing but the pulsing desire of his cock and the hands that stroked it so fervently. The callousness of Wolfgang’s fingers coupled with the softness of his own; the warmth; the speed; the skill. 

Jared came shortly thereafter with a long, satisfied hiss, dragging Wolfgang to his own end as he clenched around the older man’s cock. Feeling the tradesman pump into him thrice more as he emptied himself into Jared’s taut body, the teen felt as though his head was spinning. 

Opening his eyes to the sight of the sky above distorted by strange colorful shapes dancing in his sight, Jared groaned when Wolfgang pulled out. 

Grimacing as he sat up and felt a familiar discomfort blossoming in his lower back, the teen looked up at the tradesman as he tucked himself away and offered Jared a hand up, “Need some help?” Wolfgang asked with a blissed out smirk.

The youth was inclined to swat Wolfgang’s hand away and spit something rude at the older man but decided against it when his legs quavered underneath him as he got to his feet. 

Virtually falling into the tradesman’s arms, the Vault-kid panted as the world seemingly shifted around him. 

“How’re you feeling?” Wolfgang asked with mannerly concern. 

Jared swayed on his feet when he pulled his jumpsuit back on, “Like I was just fucked… how else would I feel?” He informed, sounding distant and rather punch-drunk. 

“Good,” Wolfgang grinned. “Which means I've got to hold up my end of the bargain.” 

Jared was having a hard time toeing into his boots when he blinked confusedly, “what?” 

“I was supposed to tell you where Silver is.” Wolfgang reminded, voice sing-song as he collected his coat and shook the sand free from it. 

The older man could practically hear the gears in Jared’s head turning. “Oh, yeah… where is she then?” The youth asked, dusting sand off his clothes. 

When the tradesman had the audacity to point to the intact home just across the way—all teeth and smugness as he informed Jared that, had he properly searched Springvale himself, he would’ve found Silver in no time—the Vault-kid laughed hysterically with him before punching Wolfgang really hard in the gut. “Fucking cheat,” Jared spat as the older man crumpled to the ground. 

Wolfgang wasn’t even mad when Jared stole his personal bottle of whiskey and flipped him the bird before leaving. “Thank you; come again.” He called after Jared as the Vault-kid disappeared beyond the rolling dunes of the Wastes.


End file.
